


Blue Moon

by Swanny_Writer



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: A ficlet that spun out of control, Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, It was only supposed to be 1K but here we are, It's a little different from my usual style, Jeon Wonwoo is Whipped for Wen Junhui, M/M, Soft!WonHui, The fic took a detour into crack partway then came back, but hopefully it's still good enough to pass, the cheese is still aplenty though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 00:22:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13282992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swanny_Writer/pseuds/Swanny_Writer
Summary: Wonwoo has never seen what the big deal is about a favorite color ever since he was little. Until a certain transfer student enters his life.(Or the one where Wonwoo looks at the world through blue-tainted glass)





	Blue Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Late New Year! I hope you all had a wonderful holiday season! Let's kick in 2018 with WonHui, yeah? ٩(◠‿◠)۶

 

_Tell us about your favorite color_ , the teacher had written on the board in pretty script. The round and neat letters stand starkly against the whiteboard in black marker. As the prompt suggests, the assignment is to write a paragraph describing the chosen color, what it is reminiscent of, what kind of feelings it elicits, and lastly, _why_ it is your favorite color.

Wonwoo has already finished; the hardly legible scrawl stare back at him from his notebook. The kids around are chatting animatedly with each other, exchanging stories and whatnot. Wonwoo crosses his arms over his desk and turns his head toward the window. He’s bored. He wishes he could have snuck his game console in his backpack this morning. Or at least have been allowed to take out his unfinished book. 

After ages—thirty minutes—the teacher stops the timer. She calls on the first kid in the front row to read over the paragraph out loud for the class. Wonwoo heaves a sigh, not understanding why _favorite colors_ matter so much. For the next several minutes, bits and pieces from his classmates' writing drift through his ears: ‘green, like the grass’, ‘yellow, like the sun’, ‘red, like a firetruck,’ ‘pink, like my mom’s flowers.'

And then it’s his turn, and Wonwoo sits up straighter. He might not see the point of the assignment, but he’s not going to slack off. He’s a good student, and he needs to prove it. 

“I have two favorite colors,” he reads, glancing up to see Miss Kim nod with a smile. “My favorite colors are black and white, like the words on the pages of a book. They’re words that tell stories. When I read and see the black words on the white page, I feel all kinds of emotions, because the story can be of anything. They can make me happy, sad, scared, and angry. And I think that’s pretty great.”

 

Unlike what his first years of childhood would have him believe, knowing your favorite color and the way it made him feel, did not matter nearly as much as his teachers would have him believe. In fact, he’s never had to think much about it for most of his life. He buys clothes that fit and look good on him, he chooses linens based on price rather than aesthetic reasons, and the apartment he’s renting off-campus would charge him an arm and a leg if he even _thinks_ about painting the walls anything other than the boring beige color. So really. What’s the big deal about colors?

 

~❀~❀~❀~

 

The first time Wonwoo sees _him_ , the boy is wearing a powder blue sweater about two sizes too big. The hem almost reaches his mid thigh, the sleeves covering the slim fingers gripping onto a slip of paper as their owner scans the surrounding. He seems lost, clearly searching for something, most likely the location printed on the paper. A chilly breeze ruffles his dark hair as he squints up at the administration building, one hand reaching up to shield his eyes from the sunlight. 

Campus is mostly deserted; lecture having already started for a few minutes now. Wonwoo picks up his pace as he jogs along the footpath, his gaze still trained on the boy across the lawn. Apparently having found what he’s looking for, the boy heads down the side of the building and turns the corner. 

Wonwoo hurries toward his own path, cursing himself for snoozing his three alarms. He doesn't think about the boy in the blue oversized sweater for the rest of the day.

 

 

~❀~

 

 

The second time Wonwoo sees _him_ , it’s at lunch. His group of friends occupy a picnic table, squeezed tightly into the two benches meant for only half of the number they currently take up. Jihoon’s hip digs into his side, while Seokmin’s elbow continuously jabs into his shoulder while the younger chatters with that end of the table. Wonwoo’s working on his chemistry packet, tuning out the squabbles around him.

He doesn’t need to see to know Minghao has his phone out, taking pictures of whatever Mingyu’s cooked for the both of them to post on Instagram. Jeonghan is probably complaining about the cold, aiming to cajole either Jisoo or Seungcheol into lending him a scarf or hat. Hansol’s shoveling food into his mouth, snickering at some weird story Seungkwan is telling from having one of the TAs sub for their physics lecture. The usual antics that Wonwoo’s been hearing for what feels like his entire life.

In the middle of drawing a benzene ring, Soonyoung’s loud and excited voice cuts through Wonwoo’s concentration. It’s by reflex that he glances up toward the noise. 

And there _he_ is.

He’s wearing a hoodie today, navy blue, still too big on him. His sweater paws flap in the air as he waves at the group while Soonyoung introduces him. 

There’s a lot of thoughts flittering through Wonwoo’s mind at that moment (he’d argue that a lot of thoughts scramble through his head all the time, even if Jihoon rolls his eyes at him): new student, history major, minoring in dance—explains how Soonyoung snatched him up—shy, but friendly demeanor. Many attributes and details go into the examination of the transfer student, to be stored and revisited later. But the one single thought that jabs insistently against his brain, demanding to be acknowledge is: Wen Junhui is cute.

When he's seen him for the first time the other day, Wonwoo’s been running late, and the distance between them made it difficult to identify much aside from the boy's overall physical appearance. But now that he’s standing just a few feet away, Wonwoo can take the time to gaze at the kind smile, the expressiveness of his large eyes, the full and lush nature of his lips, how he seems to glow without doing anything but standing there. Even the fact that he stands kind of crookedly makes him look cute. Wonwoo doesn’t understand how, but despite Junhui’s height and breadth of his shoulders, he still seems small and _soft_. 

“And next to Jihoon is Jeon Wonwoo,” Soonyoung states, snapping Wonwoo’s attention away from Junhui to glimpse at his friend. “Wonwoo’s a lit major, same year as us.”

Junhui nods at Soonyoung, then shifts his gaze to meet Wonwoo’s. A small and tentative smile blooms on his full lips. Barely seen fingertips peek out of the large and long sleeve to wave toward him. “Hi, Wonwoo. Nice to meet you.”

Wonwoo blinks. “Hey. Nice to meet you, too, Junhui.”

The responding smile is broader, brighter. A warmth settles over Wonwoo’s shoulders like a blanket of sunlight. Odd, considering the temperature is cold enough to leave a layer of frost over the grass lawn, the frozen droplets shimmering like gems under the sunshine.

He feels very warm, and he’s not quite sure why or how it’s possible.

 

 

~❀~

 

 

Wonwoo runs into him—Junhui—a couple days later, behind the main library. He’s just finished a group study session and leaving the premises, when he noticed movement by the rosemary bushes and eucalyptus trees. He slows down when he realizes what he’s seeing.

Junhui is crouched on the ground, right in the dirt, arm and side brushing against the herbs, causing the crisp scent to drift in the cool air. His phone is out, partially covered by the too long sleeve of another hoodie. Wonwoo idly wonders if Junhui has shirts of his actual size, because he’s yet to witness the boy in anything but oversized jackets and extra large sweaters. But then again, they’ve only crossed paths a few times. 

It takes Wonwoo a second to understand what the history major is doing, his focus on the boy interrupted by a quiet _meow_ coming from the bush. Not too long after, a gray cat hops out from behind the rosemary, pink nose sniffing at Junhui’s extended hand. A tinkling sound, light and airy, rings out in the still air around them. Belatedly, he realizes that it’s Junhui’s soft giggles, and not the peal of bells from the music department nearby. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard anything as beautiful, not even Jeonghan’s or Seungkwan’s singing voices. 

Too mesmerized by the adorable scene before him, Wonwoo is caught off-guard when Junhui senses his presence and turns over his shoulder. 

“Oh! Wonwoo!” Junhui beams. The soft smile reserved for his feline friend widens enough to reveal a straight row of white teeth. 

Wonwoo shoves his hands into his pockets, hoping the blush on his cheeks could be blamed on the nipping weather. “Hey, Jun. Making a new friend?” He gestures toward the gray tabby rubbing against Junhui’s hand.

The boy giggles, shifting his attention to the cat. “I’d like to think so.” After a couple strokes, he looks toward Wonwoo, a little tentative when he wonders, “Do you want to come and say hello?”

It’s no secret that Wonwoo is a cat person. But he is exhausted from the three hour long study session spent shoving formulas into his brain. All he really wants to do is go home and sleep. And maybe eat if he wakes up before breakfast. 

He opens his mouth to decline the offer and bid Junhui goodbye; however, what comes out instead is, “Sure.”

It’s with slight confusion at his own behavior that he kneels down next to Junhui, observing the gray cat as the latter eyes him. 

“Say ‘Hi’ Toby,” Junhui prompts gently, fingertips scratching the underside of the cat’s chin.

Wonwoo arches a brow, not bothering to hide the quirk of his lips. “You named him Toby?”

“Yes, Toby the tabby!” he answers with a laugh, and Wonwoo joins in.

Toby sniffs at the offered fingers. Upon deeming the newcomer worthy, he leans his head forward to allow more petting. Wonwoo scratches and strokes the short fur, smile stretched across his lips. Next to him, Junhui cheers like a proud parent, resulting in another round of deep rumbling chuckles from the lit major.

The boys linger by the trees and bushes to play with Toby until the strain to their knees become too much. Wonwoo stands to stretch out the numbness, while Junhui falls back on his rear, kicking his long legs out in front of him. 

“Bye, Toby!” He waves at the cat’s soft _meow_ , both of them watching Toby hop back behind the rosemary shrub and disappear. “Well, that was fun.”

Wonwoo looks over to meet Junhui’s gaze. A funny little stirring swirls in the pit of his stomach when the latter grins at him, wide enough to show a hint of dimples. He takes inventory of his current position—aching knees, sore back, a little hungry, and a lot tired, with dirt and mud caked over his jeans. Despite it all, as he sees similar stains on Junhui’s blue jeans and the warm smile on the new student’s face directed at him, Wonwoo doesn’t lie. He nods, a smaller upturn of his lips apparent as he answers, “Yeah, it was really nice.”

 

 

~❀~

 

 

They’re laying in the grass. It’s warm today, the heat of the sun seeping through the thin layer of their clothes from both the ground and the sky. Balmy winds sweep through the lawn, causing the blades of grass to dance and scratch at his exposed arms. Absentmindedly, Wonwoo scratches at the area and whips his face away from the stream of sunlight pouring through the canopy overheard. 

A soft peal of giggles interrupts his scowl, and he unscrews his eyes partway to see Junhui covering his mouth behind the back of his hand. He’s trying hard to conceal his merriment, but the eye smile gives him away. 

Wonwoo makes a show to scowl even more. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Junhui replies around another bubbly laugh. “You just remind me of my aunt’s cat. He loves lounging in the sun, but the moment he opens his eyes at the brightness, he glowers at the sky as if the sun tried to blind him on purpose.”

An eye roll later, Wonwoo retorts, “First of all, no one is happy about getting blinded by light, man or cat. Second, out of the two of us, you’re the cat, Jun.”

Junhui stops playing with a small wildflower long enough to raise his head. “Hm?”

“You befriended Toby within your first week on a new campus.”

“I told you, he smelled my food and came over. Total accident.”

“You use Pusheen stationary and pens,” he goes on as if Junhui’s interruption didn’t happen.

“Those were gifts!”

“You have cat doodles all over your notes,” Wonwoo points out smoothly. “You drew a cat for your self portrait in art class.”

Junhui’s bottom lip purses out in a pout. Wonwoo pretends the sight doesn’t draw his attention to how pink and full Junhui’s lips look, how the movement draws his attention to the moles lining the upper lip. Instead, he takes satisfaction from being right, smirking smugly when his friend can’t come up with any reasonable retort. 

Unsatisfied, the boy leans over and pokes at his cheek in supposed revenge. He lets it happen enough times to lower Junhui’s guard, merely watching him nudge at his cheek with seemingly bored eyes. When the history major least expects it, Wonwoo catches his hand and bites at the fleshy part under his thumb.

“Hey!” Junhui swats at him, the surprised squeak morphing into laughter when Wonwoo pretends to narrow his eyes in annoyance. “Now who’s the cat again?”

Wonwoo returns his arm with an eye roll, shifting to lay his head back on the folded jacket. “Don’t you have homework to get done?”

“I told you,” Junhui scoots closer until his head is pillowed on the corner of the jacket. Wonwoo freezes temporarily at the sudden proximity, but the other doesn’t seem to notice as he gets comfortable and continues with a grin, “I’m taking a break.”

Earlier, Wonwoo had been walking back from his last afternoon class, at which point he crossed Warren Mall and spotted Junhui sitting on the grass, books and papers spread around him. A Pusheen pen tapping against the corner of his textbook, the boy appeared completely engrossed in his work, brows furrowed and mouth set in a thin line. 

Had it been anyone else from their friend group, Wonwoo would have waved and continued on his way—should have, considering how busy Junhui looked, and how drained Wonwoo was himself after his midterm. Yet once again, his body betrayed him, taking him further across the lawn.

By the time he stood within a few feet of the busy student, the latter notices the shadow and glimpses upward. The greeting smile had been more brilliant than the sun.

“Isn’t it strange…” Junhui starts slowly, gingerly dissolving the previous comfortable silence. Wonwoo turns to look at him, indicating that he’s listening. “Isn’t it strange how the color blue is both natural and unnatural?”

Furrowing his brows, he asks, “What do you mean?”

The boy stretches a hand toward the vast sky, waving it over the cloudless canvas. “The sky is blue, so is the ocean. Dory is blue, along with other exotic animals. But have you seen blue foods?”

“Blueberries.”

A snort escapes. “Blueberries are purple. And kinda green on the inside, silly.” He swats him lightly.

Wonwoo is trumped for a second, then offers, “Well, there’s blue flowers.”

“Aren’t they dyed? Or just a shade of purple?”

“Not all of them.”

“Like what?”

“Forget-me-nots.”

Junhui ponders it momentarily. “I’ve never seen those, I don’t think.”

The promise is uttered before Wonwoo even processes what he’s saying. “I’ll show you some day.”

 

 

~❀~

 

 

He’s late. Junhui’s never been late. Normally, he’s up at the crack of dawn without so much as a complaint or whine for class. As such, it was implied that he’d be at the very least punctual—if not early—at Wonwoo’s apartment so the two of them could head out to the aquarium/zoo for extra-credit. Mainly since the whole ~~date~~ outing had been Junhui’s idea. 

Their art professor is a passionate animal lover. When the news spread that a baby seal was just born, she told the class that she would give extra credit to any student who went to see the new addition and created a piece about the experience. Needless to say, Junhui had jumped at the chance. Not only would he get the chance to see and pet the animals, he’d actually earn extra-credit for it. 

That had led to the reason why Wonwoo ambled out of bed at 6:30 this morning, because Junhui wants to be one of the first people there to beat the lines. Wonwoo still hasn’t figured out how to refuse him anything. Even if his eyelids sting from the lack of sleep.

The guy had been so excited about it, Wonwoo had half expected him to pound at his door before his alarm could even go off.

But now here Wonwoo sits, in his apartment, Junhui-less.

Where the hell could he be? 

Wonwoo’s been pacing his small living room, carving a pretty impressive trench into the flooring as he kept glancing at the clock every five minutes. If it turns out the guy overslept because he stayed up all night from excitement, Wonwoo is going to make him pay for his lunch until the end of the week.

He waits an additional five minutes before calling Junhui again. No answer. 

It’s eight o’clock by the time Wonwoo grabs his jacket and heads for his friend’s apparent, a very disquiet feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. He tries their friends on his way, trying to see if anyone’s heard of Junhui since yesterday. He’s met with half-asleep responses and grouchy shouts, which all transform into worried comments when no one’s heard from Junhui since lunch the previous day. 

The two of them usually spend the afternoon after class together, getting food and doing homework, before returning to their respective apartments. Yesterday was the exception, since Junhui had a midterm in the evening. Wonwoo had wished him ‘good luck’ with a text, and left him alone. The lack of response after the exam didn’t surprise Wonwoo, the latter imagining Junhui probably just crashed or something.

Now, though, Wonwoo wishes he’d been more attentive. Especially because Junhui lives alone. 

Heart pounding too fast from the sprint—and the worry, but Wonwoo isn’t ready to admit it quite yet—he rasps his knuckles on the wooden door. No response. He knocks harder, more incessant. By the time pain pulses through his bones, he hears shuffling from inside. “Junnie!”

A few seconds later, the door cracks open.

“Wonwoo?”

He’s ready to yell. His lungs expand with air, his hand slams against the door to push it open. He charges in, eyes snapping to Junhui’s form.

Only to freeze, shock knocking the breath out of his chest.

Junhui shrinks back, averting his red-rimmed eyes as he adjusts the aquamarine comforter around his shoulders. He sniffles a little, rubbing at his raw nose with a blanket-covered fist. His usual shiny and fluffy hair now lays flat and plastered against his sweaty forehead. He’s pale, with bags under his dull eyes. 

“Jun. What… What happened?” Wonwoo finds himself asking stupidly. There’s too many warring emotions in him: relief, confusion, anger, and distress. 

“I’m sick,” the boy replies sheepishly. A socked foot comes up to rub nervously at his shin. 

“Yes, I can see that,” Wonwoo snaps, causing the other to flinch. He sighs. “Come on.” Kicking the door close and locking it, he braces both hands on Junhui’s shoulders—or where he guesses his shoulders are under the covers—and guides him back to his room. “How did you get sick? You were fine at lunch.”

Junhui shuffles back into bed. “I got caught in the rain after the midterm.”

“It rained? I didn’t hear anything.”

Despite looking like a very sad kitten, Junhui snorts, poking enough of his face out of the blanket and pillows to see Wonwoo. “You probably had your Playstation on maximum volume, doubtful you’d hear anything.”

Embarrassed, Wonwoo cuts his eyes away, pretending to look for water or extra boxes of tissues. It’s easy to find the items; Junhui keeps his room pretty clean aside from the few clothing articles draped over the back of his chair. 

“Thanks,” he says, when Wonwoo sets a new bottle by his nightstand. “Anyway, it was a quick and impromptu shower. Didn’t even last five minutes, but it came down pretty hard. I was soaked when I got back.”

Wonwoo takes a seat at the edge of the mattress, reaching to tuck the ends of the blanket closer to Junhui’s body. “You should have told me—us.”

If Junhui notices the slight hitch in Wonwoo’s voice, he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he shrugs under the younger’s hand. “It’s just a cold. Besides, I didn’t want to cause any trouble.” Before Wonwoo could comment on how ridiculous that notion is, fingertips peek out from the blanket cocoon to pull it away enough for Junhui to see Wonwoo better. “I am sorry for not calling you, though. You could’ve slept in.”

“That’s not exactly the point I was trying to make, Jun.”

Narrowing his eyes playfully, Junhui teases, “Wonwoo, you were livid when I opened the door. The only person who loves sleep more than you is Jeonghan.” 

He can’t handle this. After an eye roll, he leans over and gives Junhui’s forehead a good flick. He ignores the other’s whine as he rubs furiously at the sting. “I wasn’t mad about having to get up early, dumbass. I was worried about you.”

Junhui stops moving, his eyes widening and his mouth popping to form a perfect little O. Try as he might, Wonwoo can’t tear his gaze away from the pretty blush quickly spreading across Junhui’s cheeks. A blush he’s willing to bet has very little to do with his cold.

The room falls into silence. It’s not uncomfortable. It hardly ever is between them. Wonwoo sits still, unsure what to do or say. He can barely believe he blurted that out. Not that it’s not true. It’s just embarrassing.

“Thank you,” comes a tiny voice from the depth of the pillows and comforter. Junhui peeks his eyes above the hem. “And I’m sorry for worrying you.”

A fond smile appears on Wonwoo’s face as he reaches toward the tuff of brown hair. He tries his best to tame the mess, although he can’t tell whether he made it better or worse. “Just focus on getting better. We’ll go visit the baby seal when you get better.”

The patient’s face lights up immediately. The familiar grin flashes. Although it’s not as bright as its normal intensity, it still puts Wonwoo at ease. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, patting Junhui's head. “Did you eat anything yet?”

The boy shakes his head, “Not yet. I didn’t have much of an appetite.”

“There’s a sandwich shop down the street. I think they have some soup on the menu, too,” he says, beginning to get to his feet. “I’ll go grab us something.”

Junhui scoots closer to the edge in order to watch Wonwoo, head tilted, tone playful. “You’re not gonna try to cook for me? My fridge is stocked.”

Making a face, he asks in monotone, “Do you want to lose your apartment to a fire while you’re recovering from a cold?”

“I don’t think I’d want to have my apartment catch on fire even if I’m healthy.”

“You cheeky brat,” Wonwoo mutters, but there’s no venom, not even when he flicks at Junhui over the thick blanket to avoid all possible pain. “I’ll be back soon.” Grabbing Junhui’s keys from the desk, he gives the lump under the duvet a pat on his way out.

As he waits for the food, he lets the rest of their friends know about Junhui’s situation. He figures most of them would still be asleep and save him from their usual tomfoolery. Unfortunately, he’s not that lucky.

 

**Clever_Angel:** my poor baby! (⋟﹏⋞) make sure he drinks lots of water and eats!

 

**King** ♕ **Coups:** thx for letting us know. does he need any cold meds or cough syrup?

 

**Young.Hurricane:** junnieeeeeeee (╥﹏╥) i want to come over!

 

**Woozi_Music:** how is he? don’t let HS in. he’ll just worsen jun’s condition 

 

**Young.Hurricane:** HEY! I’M JUNNIE’S BFF. I DESERVE TO BE THERE

 

**Rappin’Stitch:**  excuse you! if anyone’s allowed to come, it should be me

**Rappin’Stitch:** imma txt him

 

**(** ☀ **◠‿◠):** i wanna go! i’m the happy virus after all!

 

**GyuTheBest:** should i bring food?

 

**Snarky** **∞** **Kermit:** i still have some good cough drops from home if he wants them

 

**Rappin’Stitch:**  he said no :((( 

 

**Young.Hurricane:**  HAHAHAHHAHAHAH

 

**Giant Dino:**  he doesn’t have a fever, does he? fevers are really bad

 

**BOOTeaFul:** I have oranges and tangerines from home! i swear they can heal almost anything! 

 

**SoCalShua:** thx for taking good care of him, wonu. just make sure you don’t get sick too

 

**Rappin’Stitch:**  ya that’s what jun said

**Rappin’Stitch:**  didn’t want me to get contaminated and sick too

 

**GyuTheBest:**  just have hand sanitizer on deck

 

**Giant Dino:**  T8 would know, living with you, mr. germs

 

**GyuTheBest:**  RUDE!

 

**Snarky** **∞** **Kermit:**  well he’s not wrong… 

 

**GyuTheBest:**  Hao!

 

**Snarky** **∞** **Kermit:**  ♥(ˆ⌣ˆԅ)

 

**Clever_Angel:**  yes. lots of hand washing and hand sanitizer

**Clever_Angel:**  AND NO KISSING

 

**Young.Hurricane:**  HAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHHAH

 

**BOOTeaFul:**  OOOOOOOOH

**BOOTeaFul:**   (づ￣ ³￣)づ

**BOOTeaFul:**  no but it’s been months. think it’s time you confessed, mr. jeon

 

**Rappin’Stitch:**  ya, before some other dude snatches him away

 

**Clever_Angel:**  we can discuss that when junnie isn’t fighting a cold

**Clever_Angel:**  there shall be no shenanigans!

 

**King** ♕ **Coups:**  i can’t tell if JH is trying to keep ww from getting sick or protecting jun from ww

 

**Woozi_Music:**  pretty sure its both

 

**Clever_Angel:**  correct

 

**Snarky** **∞** **Kermit:**  ww got cockblocked 

 

**Rappin’Stitch:**  RIP

 

 **Young.Hurricane:**  so if ww just HAPPENS to get sick in the next few days we’ll know for sure there’s been more than germs being shared  (¬‿¬)

 

**Woozi_Music:**  that’s disgusting

 

**(** ☀ **◠‿◠):**  or he could have just not washed his hands enough

 

**Young.Hurricane:**  to recap if ww gets sick: either wonhui happened, or ww is Germ Boy II

 

**GyuTheBest:**  hey!

 

 **TheWonWooingU:** idek why i bother with you  (¬_¬)

**TheWonWooingU:**  i don’t have time for this. i need to take the food back to jun now

 

**BOOTeaFul:**  what a dedicated bf =‘)

 

**TheWonWooingU:**  he’s not my bf

 

 **Young.Hurricane:**  not yet  ◕‿↼

 

**Clever_Angel:** NO KISSING

 

**TheWonWooingU:**  i’m leaving

 

 

Back to the apartment, Wonwoo tries to be quiet in case Junhui fell back to sleep while he was gone. The silence surrounding him once he toes off his shoes and locks the door is a pretty good indicator. He pours out the soup into a bowl and plucks a spoon from the drawer, before making his way back to the room. 

Junhui stirs when he enters, rubbing at his eyes. When his gaze settles on Wonwoo approaching, he smiles. “You’re back.”

Wonwoo hums and sits at the edge of the bed again. “Do you want to eat now?”

As if in answer to his question, Junhui stomach decides to growl. “Ah!” An embarrassed squeak slips out, followed by Junhui hugging his torso, cheeks tainted. “Sorry,” he chuckles. “Thank you.”

“Careful, it’s hot.”

Gingerly, he cradles the bowl, swirling the liquid with the spoon for a bit to help cool it down. “Aren’t you going to eat?” he asks after a couple spoons. 

“I will,” Wonwoo reassures, patting the foot hidden under the covers. “Just focus on you today.”

Junhui gives him a small, appreciative smile, and resumes eating slowly. Partway through, he tries to push it away, claiming to be full, but Wonwoo insists for him to just eat “a couple more spoons,” and eventually, the bowl is emptied. 

“Let me get you some more water.”

Upon returning, Junhui is half sitting up against the headboard, phone in hand. He’s giggling quietly at something, but sets the phone aside when Wonwoo takes his previous seat on the bed.

“Thank you.” He sips slowly at the cool water. Junhui trains his eyes on Wonwoo’s hand, the one idly tapping his index finger against his knee under the covers. “For… being here.”

Wonwoo cracks a smile, that familiar warmth spreading through his chest to the ends of his toes and fingertips. “You don’t have to thank me for that, Junnie. Come on,” he pats the leg. “Lay down and get some rest.”

“Um…” the boy hesitates, looking up at Wonwoo as the latter looms over him to tuck the covers around his shoulders. “Are… are you leaving now?” He sounds anxious, and if Wonwoo wants to read into it, a little disappointed.

The younger chooses his words carefully. “Do you want me to?”

The head-shake is imminent, even if Junhui pulls the comforter almost to his nose to hide the action. It’s cute, and Wonwoo is endeared at the shyness, even now. The corners of his lips tug upward, and he cards his fingers through the brown locks, taking pleasure in how Junhui leans into the touch.

“Then I’ll stay,” he says easily.

“Are you sure? It’s not going to be very fun, though,” Junhui points out, still half-way buried inside the cocoon. “And you might get sick hanging around me. I don’t know how contagious I might be.”

Wonwoo chuckles. “I don’t think my immune system is that weak. And we can just watch movies or something.” He points to the laptop sitting on the desk.

Peeking out, Junhui giggles, eye smiles present. “Okay. Hansolie gave me his Netflix account to use.”

The joke is too good not to tell. Smirking as he retrieves the laptop, he asks, “So you want to Netflix and Chill?”

“What?” A startled squawk is all the warning he gets before Junhui, apparently choking on air, starts to cough.

Guilt overriding his actions, he drops the laptop at the foot of the bed and rushes to rub soothing circles on Junhui’s back, letting the dancer lean into him and gripping at his forearms. Once the fit passes, he apologizes and wants to know, “You okay, Jun?” 

“Mhm.” He settles down, grateful for the care. A moment later, though, his cheeks start to heat as the blush spreads. “D-did you really…” 

Shy and embarrassed Junhui is always fun to see, but Wonwoo relents and eases up on the teasing. He chuckles, turning to grab the laptop again. “I’ll do the Netflix. You just chill. And sleep.” 

The tension leaves Junhui’s shoulders immediately as he all but melts into the pillows, letting out a relieved sigh. Then he giggles, pressing his sweater paws to hide his face. “Your jokes are so bad, Wonwoo.”

“But look who’s laughing, though.”

In retaliation, Junhui pulls one hand out enough to swat at him, before burying under the sheets again. 

Wonwoo smiles at the lump, eyes fond.

They spend the rest of the day in Junhui’s bed. At first, they tried to keep a few inches between them, with the laptop perched on each of their thigh. Eventually, though, as Junhui drifts in and out of consciousness, that distance gradually dwindles. By the end of the night, Junhui’s body is halfway perched over Wonwoo’s, with the latter’s arm swung over Junhui’s waist. His breath is warm and steady as it fans across Wonwoo’s neck. 

Shifting as gently as possible, Wonwoo shuts the laptop and sets it on the chair nearby. 

“Mmm!” a soft whine escapes from Junhui’s slightly parted lips as his hand fists into Wonwoo’s shirt, scooting closer. 

Wonwoo’s heart swells at the sight, fingertips rubbing the small furrow between his brows until Junhui relaxes again. 

“Wonwon,” he mumbles.

The younger has never been more grateful for someone else being asleep. He has no idea how he’d be able conceal the wide grin from splitting across his face from hearing the nickname said in that sleepy and fond tone. Still, he swallows and runs his fingers through the brown hair.

“Shh. It’s okay, Junnie. Go back to sleep. I’m right here.”

Junhui makes a contended noise as he burrows deeper against Wonwoo’s chest. He really hopes Junhui is asleep deep enough not to hear the pounding of his heart from that position. A faint smile lingers across the dancer’s relaxed expression, and Wonwoo closes his eyes with that heartwarming sight in his mind, and his arms full of a soft and warm Junhui.

 

A few days later, much to Wonwoo’s chagrin and their friends’ amusement, he starts coughing and shows up to class with a runny nose. He endures the teasing and innuendoes—all done behind Junhui’s back, at least the group aren’t complete assholes—until his last class. After which, Junhui insists on returning the favor and drags him back to the dorms. 

Except Junhui takes him to his own apartment, because “The only thing in your fridge are water bottles, and some half empty bottles of condiments. And expired milk. I can't take proper care of a patient in those conditions.” Wonwoo is too distracted by his stuffy nose to have it in him to fight. 

He ends up tucked under the familiar blue comforter, and eating one of the best meals of his life. He can’t remember much of the following couple days, except for a pleasant buzzing under his skin, and a lightness that gives him a sense of comfort despite his lousy condition. The weight and warmth against his body become natural, and he falls asleep with a smile on his face.

 

 

~❀~

 

 

It’s Junhui’s birthday, and Wonwoo has lost count of how many times it’s been since he first saw the history major. Although tonight, he wishes he didn’t see the guest of honor. Okay, no, that’s not actually true. He always wants to see Junhui; what he doesn’t want to see is some random guy draping himself over his friend’s shoulders like some leech out for blood.

Gritting his teeth, he tears his gaze away from the human pest to focus on Junhui’s excited little wiggle as he prepares to pull out the next wooden block. The Jenga tower wobbles, causing the maknae line and Seokmin to roar into a frenzy, the screeches and gasps loud enough to compete with the music blasting through the speakers. Fortunately for Junhui, the tower remains standing. Wonwoo smiles slightly at his genuine joy, watching as he claps for himself on a job well done. 

The pleasant sensation evaporates the moment the leech leans forward to whisper something into Junhui’s ear, causing the boy to laugh and shove playfully at the other’s shoulder. Wonwoo narrows his eyes, debating the success of throwing a soda across the room and hit the pest’s head. He tips the half-empty can of Coke on the kitchen counter, twirling it around with his fingertips. His aim might not be as accurate as Jihoon’s, but it’s better than most. He pours the rest of the soda down his throat, eyes strained on the obnoxious blond. One setback—a rather significant risk—is potentially hitting Junhui. Still, something has to be done.

“You’re gonna give yourself permanent wrinkles if you keep scowling like that.”

Wonwoo cuts his eyes away from his target to glare at Soonyoung. “This is how my face is.”

The dance major nods in placative manner, grabbing a handful of chips from the bowl. “Yeah, sure. Next thing I know, you’ll tell me you’re totally fine with Junhui’s old project partner.”

Not deeming the comment worthy of a response, Wonwoo turns away. So much for sitting in the corner of the kitchen to be left alone. For the umpteenth time this evening, Wonwoo ponders just leaving Junhui’s present in his room and going home. But he can’t. Not when it means leaving him with the blond leech. Admittedly, Wonwoo knows they wouldn’t be alone, not with eleven of their friends bustling around birthday boy’s apartment. However that gives him very little comfort.

The leech’s presence has been a shock, needless to say. Soonyoung and Seungkwan planned the party, with everyone else pitching in with food, drinks, and decorations. Everything had gone according to plan—surprisingly—when the doorbell was rung. The thirteen of them had looked at each other, wondering if someone had ordered extra food. When Junhui went to answer the door, though, Leech Boy had thrust a gift bag at Junhui’s face. 

“I overheard your friends talking about supplies at the store, so I just thought it was the perfect opportunity to thank you for helping me with my project.”

Of course Junhui ended up inviting him inside, because he’s just that nice and polite. Much to Wonwoo’s irritation.

“My dislike of the guy doesn’t have anything to do with Junhui,” Wonwoo tells Soonyoung now, ignoring the eye roll. “He admitted to eavesdropping, and then invited himself to someone else’s party. _That_ irritates me.”

“Uh-huh. And here I thought you were just jealous.”

He bites back the low growl, deciding to glower at his friend instead. “Shouldn’t you be out there making a fool of yourself?”

“Okay, first, rude!” Soonyoung exclaims. “Second, instead of brooding in the kitchen alone and trying to kill the guy with your glares, why don’t you actually go over there?”

“No.”

He grips onto Wonwoo’s tee and shakes him. “Why not?”

“Because.” The younger bats his hands off easily. 

At that moment, Jeonghan strides into the kitchen to get more jelly beans. “What’s wrong?”

“Wonwoo’s being a wimp and refuses to fight for love.”

Whipping around, he clamps his hand over Soonyoung’s mouth. “I swear I’m going to knock you unconscious!”

The dance major’s cries of indignation are muffled behind Wonwoo’s hand, and he pries it off. “But it’s true!”

Jeonghan chuckles; however, the sound soon morphs into a sigh as he glances toward the living room. “I don’t like that kid. Inviting himself over like that, no manners.”

“See!” As if liberated, Wonwoo points at the older as the latter just proved his earlier point.

Soonyoung rolls his eyes. “Yeah, whatever. You still hate his guts for monopolizing your crush.”

“That’s the other thing,” Jeonghan interjects. "It’s like he doesn’t give a rat’s ass about the rest of us. And Junnie’s too nice to do anything about it. Wonwoo, you do it.”

“Huh?” Well, that came out of nowhere.

“Just go over there and kick his ass!”

Soonyoung eyes Jeonghan with concern. “Um, are you okay?”

“No. He keeps eating all of my favorite jelly beans flavors!” To emphasize his point, he shakes the tub of candy.”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes. Sometimes he really wonders about the mental age of their friends. He lets Jeonghan's and Soonyoung’s voices blend into the noise surrounding him, turning back to the living room to observe the enemy. 

Junhui’s gone. 

Wonwoo’s stomach lurches as he searches frantically for the tuff of newly dyed pink hair. Hansol and Seungkwan are talking to Jihoon by the bookshelf, while Seokmin is dealing a new game of Uno to Mingyu, Minghao, and Seungcheol. Jisoo joins them with a cup of soda. No Junhui, and no leech. Wonwoo feels nauseous at the implication.

“Fuck.”

Not bothering to look behind him as his friends wonder out loud what the matter is, Wonwoo makes a bee line for the hallway leading to the bedroom. Bile rises in his mouth. Ugly thoughts swirl in his head. He feels unnaturally hot, his hands clenching into fists at his sides as he takes large steps.

Around the corner, he hears Junhui’s voice. Small, hesitant. It’s trembling as it reaches his ears through the booming bass.

“I… This is really not… W-We should return to the party. No. Wait, stop!”

Fear, ice cold, slices through his chest at the sound of Junhui’s panic. The moment he sees him backed up against the wall, hands pushing against the bastard’s chest and shoulders, Wonwoo lunges forward. He grabs the creep by the collar, yanking him away from Junhui. The momentum sends the guy crashing into the opposite wall; muttered curses flying out.

“Wonwoo,” Junhui breathes, eyes wide, face pale. 

He pulls Junhui back toward him, putting himself in front of the dancer right as the bastard stands up and glares at him. He keeps a hand around Junhui’s wrist, squeezing it in reassurance. Scrambling to contain his self-composure to not ruin the party, he breathes out evenly as he eyes the offender.

“Get the fuck out of here,” he growls, daring the guy to even attempt a counter attack.

For a moment, there is only tense silence. The blond’s chest heaves, eyes murderous as he shifts focus from Wonwoo to Junhui. Wonwoo feels slender fingers clutching the back of his shirt, feet shuffling closer as their owner all but curls up behind him. Wonwoo squeezes his wrist again, never leaving the creep out of his sight.

With a contemptuous scoff and shake of the head, the blond spins on his heels and disappears. The sound of a door slamming is the catalyst that releases all the tension. Junhui sags against him, and Wonwoo releases his shoulders, slowly turning around to gather the boy into his arms. He can finally breathe, inhaling the faint scent of shampoo and something citrusy, all very Junhui. 

The boy burrows further against him, hiding his face into the crook of Wonwoo’s neck, arms wounding around to grip at his shirt. For a moment, Wonwoo just holds him, fingers carding through the hair at the back of his head, hand stroking comforting circles on the navy shirt.

“He said he was feeling funny,” Junhui starts saying, words mumbled against Wonwoo’s shoulder. “So I showed him to the bathroom, but then he cornered me, and I…” His grip tightens. 

Wonwoo needs to defuse the situation. He can’t handle seeing Junhui in distress, so vulnerable. So he cracks a light joke, teasing him out of the stupor. “What happened to all that wushu you mastered, Jun? You could have thrown him on his ass an eternity before I got here.”

It works.

Junhui giggles lightly into his chest, muscles relaxing. “I’ve never had to use it outside of competitions, so I guess I forgot.”

Wonwoo sighs, but it’s with amusement and fond exasperation. He sways them a little, easing up the last remnants of the agitation.

Softly, Junhui murmurs, “Thanks for coming to look for me, Wonwon.”

Maybe it’s the relief, the leftover adrenaline, or even his bottled-up feelings. But for whatever reason, he doesn’t think about it when he presses his lips to Junhui’s temple and vows, “I always will, Junnie.”

As soon as the words are uttered, the shock runs through both of them. Junhui lifts his head enough to peek at him, cheeks flushed, eyes wide; Wonwoo’s sure he doesn’t look dissimilar.

A small commotion down the corridor draws their attention away from their heated cheeks. One head, followed by two others, sneak around the corner. Seungkwan looks ready to ask something, probably concerning the reason the creep left, but upon seeing the current position, an astounded look crosses his expression. Large eyes blink as he gapes. Soonyoung is grinning from ear to ear, eyes nothing more tiny slits. Jeonghan seems pleased, sighing dramatically as he nods and pulls the other two away and back to the living room.

“Um…” He has no idea what to say, just knows that Junhui has yet to release his hold on Wonwoo’s shirt. “Do you want to go back? We don’t have to tell them what happened.”

Junhui chews on his bottom lip, the sight very distracting and making it really hard for Wonwoo to resist and push away all the fantasies of kissing him senseless. “Um… Can…” He shuffles from foot to foot. “Can I open my present?”

When he lifts his gaze and looks at Wonwoo from under his lashes, the only thing the younger manages to do is nod and offer a smile. “Sure, Junnie. Let me go grab it.” He gives Junhui’s hands comforting squeezes before the dancer releases them from his shirt, allowing him to leave.

Out in the living room, he’s grateful to note that nothing seems out of the ordinary. The music is still blaring, the gang is just as boisterous. Jeonghan finally has all the jelly beans he wishes, perched in the middle of the couch, head resting on Seungcheol’s side, while the rest of his body is sprawled across Jisoo’s lap. The three are apparently in a heated battle against the 97-liners at some board game Wonwoo doesn't bother checking. Jihoon is cackling loudly as he beats Soonyoung at Mario Carts, which allows Chan to push forward and get second place. Hansol cheers along, munching on chips, while Seungkwan acts as the referee for whatever game the group of six is playing.

Wonwoo is just about to grab his gift bag by the dining table and retreat, when he’s pelted with popcorn. He turns to see Jeonghan give him a look, and Seungcheol clearing his throat. Jisoo looks ready to dive away, while the 97-liners are already rolling on the floor with barely restrained laughter. Wonwoo is peeved, narrowing his eyes.

“What?”

“Just, uh…” Seungcheol scratches at his ear, looking anywhere but at Wonwoo. “Act responsibly and safely.”

Wonwoo’s face burns from the implication. “What the fuck!” he hisses, snatching the gift bag. “Do you really think I’d—we’d do _anything_ with you loitering around here?”

“Hormones, man!” Soonyoung adds unhelpfully. “You never know when the mood strikes. And you’ve been pent-up for _months_! Aw, Jihoonie! Noooooo! Have mercy!”

“No. Eat my dirt, suckaaaaa!”

Wonwoo groans into his hand. “I hate you.”

When he manages to return to the room, Junhui is sitting against the headboard, playing some game on his phone. He quits it at the quiet click of the door shutting. Beaming at Wonwoo, he pats the space in front of him, eyes sparkling at the sight of the blue bag in Wonwoo’s grasp.

The latter chuckles as he sits down, handing the bag over. “Happy Birthday, Junnie.”

“Thank you!” Laughing, he handles the present with care and slowly pulls out the tissue paper to peer inside. 

The gift itself is nothing extravagant. Just a book he’s been talking about for the past month, complaining about how there is no ebook version available beyond the first few pages. Wonwoo figures now he’ll finally stop whining about the injustice. Truth be told, though, if Wonwoo had the means, he would have gotten him a new phone. His current one keeps on running out of batteries and storage space from all the animal pictures, selfies, videos, and games Junhui hoards. Maybe a Christmas present, he muses.

“Oh!” Junhui exclaims, grin wide as he takes the book out. “Wonwon, you found it!” Giggling happily, he brings it to his chest and hugs it tight. “Thank you! It must have taken you so much work and time!”

“Nah, just some intensive googling.”

Junhui narrows his eyes, mouth twisted to the side as he watches him with mock scrutiny. “You’re not a very good liar, Jeon Wonwoo. But it’s okay,” he continues breezily, gazing at the cover of the novel, hand running over the dust jacket adoringly. “I still love you.”

It’s like lightning though Wonwoo’s heart. He knows Junhui doesn’t mean it _that_ way, but it’s hard to tell himself that when his insides are flip flop and his pulse races.

“Oh, what’s this?”

The question snaps him out of his temporary mental crisis to look over. Junhui is reaching for something at the bottom of the bag. Wonwoo had almost forgotten about it.

He chuckles, feeling silly, as he rubs at his neck. “Nothing, just something fun.”

The birthday boy holds the small clear plastic container, bringing it up to eye level to look at the sprig of blue and green inside. As he glimpses at Wonwoo over the rim of the container, a knowing and excited grin blooming on his chest, he gingerly opens the lid. The centimeter of water sloshes inside, but doesn’t spill out as Junhui takes the stem between his fingertips.

“Forget-me-not,” he states, eyes shining with mirth and delight. He seems even happier receiving the flowers than the book. “Wow,” he sighs dreamily, twisting the stem around to see all the small, blue flowers better. “I can’t believe you actually remembered.”

“Of course, my memory is remarkable.”

Junhui chuckles, glancing at Wonwoo briefly, before returning to his examination, very gently caressing the velvety texture of a petal. “They’re really, really blue.”

“Mhm. Do you like it?”

“That’s a silly question.” He laughs. “Of course, I do!” 

Then he puts the stem back into the water, and sets the container on his nightstand, shuffling closer toward Wonwoo until he can throw his arms around the younger’s neck, hugging him tightly. The soft and airy laugh drifts through the air over the muffled music from the other room, and Wonwoo laughs along, wrapping his arms around Junhui’s torso.

Pressing his cheek right by Wonwoo, he whispers, “Don’t tell Hansolie, but I like your gifts best.”

Wonwoo represses the pleasant shudder from Junhui’s closeness and warm breath fanning across his skin. He chuckles and asks to distract himself, “What did he give you?”

“A week’s supply of my favorite snacks,” he answers with a chuckle. 

The other laughs, too, nodding. “Okay, your secret is safe.”

With another smile gracing his full lips, Junhui leans back into the hug, saying sincerely, “Thank you, Wonwon.” And Wonwoo understands it’s not necessarily about keeping it from Hansol. It’s for everything else, too. 

Heart alight, he nods, glad that Junhui can’t see his face when he replies, “Any time, kitten.”

There’s a surprised squeak that quickly turns into soft giggles. “Kitten?”

“It fits, doesn’t it? I told you, you were a cat.”

“Pfft,” he laughs again. “You’re silly.”

And then it happens. 

Looking back, Wonwoo is grateful he doesn’t see it coming, otherwise, he might have gone into cardiac arrest.

Junhui pulls away from around Wonwoo’s neck, cheeks flushed, teeth gnawing on his bottom lip. Wonwoo is too busy watching the action, he doesn’t see the nervous look on the rest of Junhui’s face, doesn’t notice the shifting of his eyes. He barely registers the quick tightening of fingers around his collar. 

But then he feels it.

Junhui’s lips on his cheek, a little too close to the corner of his own mouth to be meant as purely platonic. Lips he’s been watching and thinking about way too much over the past months. 

Stunned, he just sits there and stares at Junhui as the latter pulls away, cheeks flushed, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, eyes refusing to meet Wonwoo’s. “Um… S-sorry,” he mumbles.

It takes Wonwoo three seconds to fully understand the situation. And an additional two to wake up from the daze. He reaches forward, hand cupping the side of Junhui’s face to tilt it, ensuring the dancer sees the intent in his eyes, letting him know that he has the chance to pull away if he wishes. But Junhui doesn’t. In fact, he leans into the touch. 

Wonwoo meets him halfway, pressing their lips together.

It’s soft, it’s chaste. But it’s sweet, and his head is swimming. 

He’s surprised, when they pull away with matching shy smiles and blushing cheeks, to know that his heart hasn’t exploded into tiny pieces. 

“I like you, Jun,” he admits after a few seconds of silence, his fingers drawing small patterns on the soft skin of Junhui’s cheek, warm to the touch from the blush. He receives a dazzling grin and breathless laugh.

“I like you, too, Wonwon.”

He can’t help it. He bridges the small gap and claims the full lips once more, knowing he's earned the right to kiss Junhui anytime he wants now. The latter laughs into the kiss, fingers curled into the dark locks. 

As Wonwoo lays their foreheads together, he confesses, “You kind of ruined my joke, though.”

Junhui’s brows pull together, clear eyes reflecting the obvious confusion. “What joke?” 

“Come here.” With a tug, he sets Junhui across his lap, thighs pressed around his hips. Junhui lets out a yelp, but laughs as he circles Wonwoo’s neck with his arms, looking over his shoulder to watch Wonwoo bring the gift bag closer.

He rummages through the rest of the tissue paper until he pulls out a small pouch filled with dried fruits. With a smirk, he hands it to Junhui, who still doesn’t understand.

“Okay,” Wonwoo says, pointing to it. “Do you like raisins? How about a date?”

“Oh my god…” Junhui presses himself against the crook of Wonwoo’s neck, unable to look at the smug expression adorning the boy’s face. Still, his laughter is audible despite the muffled sound. “That was so bad!”

Wonwoo pokes his side, eliciting another squeak, but the clinging dancer refuses to come out of hiding. “It was a great joke, and you know it.”

Needing air, Junhui finally reemerges, pouting as he shakes his head and pokes both of Wonwoo’s cheeks with his fingers. “Well, then I have one, too.” He moves off of Wonwoo’s lap, with the latter reluctantly letting go of his slim waist. Inside one of the drawers at his desk, he pulls out a bag of chocolates and returns to the bed. Grinning, he grabs a small piece wrapped in silver foil, presenting it to Wonwoo. “Wanna kiss?”

Wonwoo tries not to laugh, but it’s nearly impossible when he looks at Junhui’s proud grin, shoulders shaking with giggles, the piece of chocolate in between them. And so he does. “And you called my joke bad.”

“It was! Besides, mine’s about chocolate, which makes mine automatically better. Raisins are only good in trail mix.” With that said, he unwraps the foil and pops the chocolate into his mouth, beaming.

Smirking, Wonwoo pinches his chin and leans in. In his surprise, he gasps, and Wonwoo quickly swipes his tongue over the corner of his mouth, diving it just enough to stroke the tip of his tongue, tasting the sweetness of the chocolate.

By the time he pulls away, Junhui is blushing all the way to his chest. Wonwoo laughs even harder at the small pout, kissing that away, too. “What? You offered.”

“Hmph!” Junhui narrows his eyes, but there is no heat to the glare, and they end up laughing again, sprawled on top of the blue covers.

 

Later on, when Junhui faces the lit up cake, surrounded by their friends, no one wonders why the two of them stand so close together, nor do they protest when Wonwoo blows the candles along with Junhui. Everyone cheers and sings, cutting into the cake and giving the birthday boy the largest piece. Somehow, Junhui manages to sneakily swipe icing on Wonwoo's cheek and giggling about the exploit. Wonwoo laughs, rolling his eyes as he searches for a napkin. Except Junhui beats him to it, and wipes it off for him. Wonwoo pecks his nose.

The whole gang stays over that night, nestling next to each other on the carpet, sharing pillows and blankets. Wonwoo is sandwiched between Seokmin and Junhui, with Mingyu and Minghao somewhere above them, and Soonyoung on Junhui’s other side. They're all squished together, but he doesn’t mind. Not when he feels Junhui snuggling up against him, legs tangled together, hand resting on his arm, and head cushioned on his chest. He smiles into Junhui’s hair, wrapping the comforter over the both of them. 

That night, Wonwoo falls asleep with a calming sense of peace, affection swelling in his chest for the boy in his arms. It seems like so long ago since the day he first laid eyes on him, beautiful and soft in that oversized powder blue sweater and sweater paws. 

A gentle caress over the bridge of his nose prompts him to flutter his eyes open. Junhui grins at him, eyes so bright even in the dark.

“Goodnight, Wonwon,” he mouths.

Wonwoo returns the happy expression, pecking his nose. “‘Night, kitten.”

 

 

~❀~❀~❀~

 

 

“So what are you going to do for your final art piece? A collage?” Junhui wonders, flopping onto Wonwoo’s bed. He brings the binder closer to his face to flip through the notes and tentative shots.

“Yeah,” Wonwoo answers, sitting on the other side. “It’s still a work in progress.”

“Hm. Will you just take pictures of your favorite book quotes, make copies of passages and stuff? All black and white?”

“Maybe. I’m not sure yet.” 

 

When Wonwoo turns in his final, it is indeed a collage of pictures. Only it’s not composed of book quotes and passages. They’re photos of different things: flowers, pieces of the sky both in daytime and night, books, pillows, beds... Most of the shots, though, consist of one subject. His face isn’t shown, half-hidden behind arms and hands, but a few closeups manage to capture the charm of the freckles sprinkled across his sun-kissed skin like constellations. Each shot focuses on a small detail of the subject, highlighting the beauty and showcasing the love of the photographer for the subject.

The collection is of one common theme: blue, the many emotions that such a simple, primary color managed to evoke from the artist. 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I love using canon bits in my fic, and this was no exception. Recently, Wonwoo revealed that his favorite color is blue. Which is not coincidentally also the color of Jun's earpieces. But what made it even MORE suspicious is the fact that previously, his favs were B&W. Could be nothing, could be something. Who knows ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ It's enough for a fic, and that's all that matters, right? lol. (Also Jun's bedding is apparently light blue, too LOL)
> 
>  
> 
> I don't say it enough, so I'll say it again, THANK YOU all for still sticking with my unpunctual and lazy ass. You're the real MVPs. Let's hope the new year will be kinder and more beautiful to all of us, with lots of WonHui!
> 
> Now that I've resurrected from hibernation, I'll get back to TTLW. I'm sure some of you were rather disappointed when you got the notification and saw that it was some random fic instead of Ch. 12. Once again, I apologize...  
> (つ﹏⊂)


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